


let the sea set you free

by hcrlaws



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Modern AU, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mention of Drug Abuse, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell - Freeform, basically theonsa in group therapy, daenerys targaryen/yara greyjoy - Freeform, mention of alcohol abuse, minor/background relationships: - Freeform, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcrlaws/pseuds/hcrlaws
Summary: Theon and Sansa know each other very briefly. They are not friends, but more than just acquaintances. Theon knows her from Robb, and from Ramsay. And now they are in group therapy together.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Sansa Stark (past), Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy (past), Sansa Stark & Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark/Joffrey Baratheon (past), Theon Greyjoy & Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone ! sorry for not writing any theonsa fanfic in such a long time. i have a complete writers block on all my other fics so i decided to write a little something different. i'm not so used to writing modern au, so please be patient with me. i do hope you like it though! this is just sort of a tester chapter to see if you guys like it and would like me to continue! 
> 
> WARNING : this chapter includes the mention of alcohol addict, rape and abuse, but just in the passing. no big details or anything like that. i thought i'd give the warning anyway.

She was the first to enter the small hall with the wooden floor where the group therapy meeting was going to be held in precisely twenty minutes. A check of her watch - nineteen minutes. 

Sansa’s blue orbs cast around the empty hall, a few chairs laid out in the shape of a circle. There was coffee, tea and biscuits over on the side table - but not a single over person was in sight. With a sigh, Sansa found herself walking to one of the depressing blue plastic chairs and took a seat. Another couple of minutes had passed, and still no one else showed. For a moment, she wondered if she had made a mistake by coming to the meeting at all. She could be doing something more productive with her day - if no one else showed in the next couple of minutes, she would leave.

Sansa was never late to anything. Ever. First, she hates procrastinating. She could not think of anything else that raises her anxiety more than procrastinating and leaving everything till the last minute. Second, Joffrey’s family had been people who hated when someone was late. Didn’t matter if it was some sort of dinner at a restaurant, a party, or just an invitation over to their big Southern mansion. If you were late, you’d be hearing about how you were late and how you disappointed Cersei for the next week. It was something Sansa had done once and learned to never do it again. Purely because one look from Cersei Lannister nearly had her in floods of tears. 

And lastly, her now ex husband Ramsay, did not put up with any sort of tardiness that came from anyone. Especially from her. It could be as small as not having his dinner out for him on the table as he arrived home from a long day at work. _Any_ little thing had set Ramsay off. Sansa had that constant anxiety in the form of a voice in her mind that stopped her from being late to anything ever. 

Another five minutes had passed in her thoughts, and her hand wrapped around the strap of her bag ready to stand up and leave like she had never been there in the first place. Until a small man strolled in, holding another tray of biscuits in his hands. 

“Oh! I never knew you were here, so quiet you are. People are never on time usually you see, and I have never seen you before - so you must be new.” He moved while he spoke, placing the tray down and getting the paper cups ready for people to fill with their beverage choice at the end of the group session - she knew how these went. She had read up all about group therapy and rehab therapy before coming. She had prepared for what she would say if she was asked to share her story, she had worked on putting that smiling face on and keeping herself straight postured and dry eyed just like her mother had taught her. 

“I’m Sansa. Sansa Stark.” The man's green eyes shone like emeralds as they turned to look at where she remained seated.

“I know you… you dated my nephew, Joffrey! Yes, I remember my sister mentioning you. She said- well… that Joffrey broke your heart.” An awkward glance in her direction before eyes shifted back to focus on the beverages, biscuits and cakes all lined up across the old table that looked ready to break its legs and give way at any moment if any more weight was added on top of its fragile, old frame. Sansa’s eyes cast down to the ground, hands fidgeting together in her lap. Joffrey hadn’t just broken her heart - he had broken her spirit. Then Ramsay Bolton had broken the rest of her and left nothing but shattered pieces of glass in the place where Sansa Stark, proud and always smiling Sansa Stark, had once been.

She was thankful when the hall began to fill with other people, no longer alone with Joffrey’s preying uncle who seemed to look at her like he was gazing right into her mind and could read all of her thoughts. Three people walked through the door at similar time - two men and a woman. Sansa was happy to see another woman in the room with her, and was even happier when the woman seemed to sense through her begging eyes for her to take the seat beside her, and sat down. 

“Stannis, Sandor, Brienne; lovely to see you all again.” Tyrion gained a pleasant ‘hello’ from the woman, Brienne, and just grunts from the older males. One man, Sandor, had a burn that ran down one side of his face and had burnt away some of his darkened hair - even his ear was missing. The burnt scars covered the left side of his face while the right had sharp cheekbones and a high brow - long dark hair covering down to his collar bones and even the unburnt side of his face. Sansa tried to not stare at the man for too long, and instead glanced towards the ground at her own feet while Tyrion sat upon his chair, turning it around so that the back was rested up against his chest and his legs dangled off the edge. 

“Who would like to begin today?” No one spoke up. “We can just start it off by… telling me how you all slept last night.” Everyone either stared at him blankly or stared elsewhere in the room. “Sandor, how did you sleep last night?” 

“Shite. Had another nightmare just like every other fucking night. If I slept good, and didn’t have these nightmares, I wouldn’t drown myself in whisky bottles and then I wouldn’t be fucking here speaking to you in front of all these other depressed cunts.” 

Sansa nearly gasped out in shock at the language that came from the man across the circle from her, but instead turned her eyes to gaze at Tyrion and see his reaction to it. He just swallowed while clenching his jaw right, a nod of the head, and moved on like the aggressive comment had never happened.

“Brienne, how did that date go the other day? With my brother?” A grin sent her way and a wiggle of his eyebrows. The woman blushed and ducked her head - perfectly groomed short blonde hair came over her eyes before she brushed it back into place with a simple hand gesture, and smiled towards Tyrion. She was much more cooperative than Sandor had been.

“It.. went well. We have arranged to go out again this weekend to the movies and a few drinks afterwards. He makes me… not have to worry about my looks, or if other people are thinking about how I look. Even for a short period of time. The anxiety goes away when I’m around Jaime.” 

Tyrion smiled at her, clearly happy to hear it, and then turned to Sansa. “And how about you, Sansa? You’re new to the group, would you like to share just how you slept last night? Or perhaps let us get to know you a little and the reason that you are here with us today?”

Sansa went to open her mouth, taking a deep breath and preparing herself to say it. _I am here because my ex raped and abused me and I cannot get the touch of him off my skin no matter how hard I scrub._ But she was interrupted when the door to the hall swung open, and a male trails inside with his head tucked underneath the black hood that covered his face, hands stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie. Tyrion let out a sigh, a shake of the head and a frown now across his face that had once been covered with a smile. “Late again, Greyjoy.” 

_Greyjoy._ She knew that name - not many Greyjoy’s lived in the Reach. It was far too away from the sea unless living in Old Town for any of them to live here, and yet, he was here. _Theon. Ramsay had called him Reek._ Her whole body tensed up as she watched him crossing the hall and throwing his whole body weight down into the pathetic plastic chair and nearly snapping it right there. He slouched down, arms crossed over his chest with a big scowl on his face. Finally his hood came down to fully show off his face with those chestnut curls falling into his eyes. He looked better than he had been when she had last seen him. In Winterfell, _with Ramsay._ He almost looked like a healthy person - if not for the dark bags underneath his eyes and the scars that covered his hands and done one cheek to the corner of his lip. She had watched that scar being made with the sharp point of one of Ramsay’s blades. Suddenly the bile rose in her throat, colour draining from her face. She needed _out._ She couldn’t sit in a room with Theon, knowing he knew so much, that she knew so much about him. _Ex best friend of Robb, stole from her family to pay for his drug addiction, and she had caught him and let him go. He watched Ramsay lay hands on her, and was scarred the one time he got up the courage to try and stop him._

“I’m sorry… I-I’m sorry I can’t be here today. I’m n-not ready.” Her hands shook as she stood from the chair and knocked it over in her panic of needing to get out of the suddenly tight room, her heart hammering away in her chest as she felt the eyes of the group on her, his eyes on her. Tyrion tried to reach out a hand to stop her, to perhaps help her calm down, but she batted his hand away from her and rushed across the space. She needed to feel the fresh air on her face, needed out the gaze of Brienne with her anxiety over her looks and Sandor with his aggression and burnt face, even from scowling Stannis in the corner that hadn’t said a word since he had arrived. She needed away from Theon, most of all. With his sea coloured eyes that could read her so easily, and all the memories of the years with Ramsay that they shared together. 

They were both at the group session because of the harm the same man had inflicted on them both, and Sansa needed the time to breathe. She pushed the double doors open and heard the _click_ of them shutting behind her. Hands gripped the pole that led down the stairs - and she could still feel his eyes on the back of her through the small box windows in the doors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa finally returns to the group therapy, and reunites with more than Theon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the bit of a longer wait than expected. I've had a sudden wave landed on me with college assessments to be graded since the exams wont be going forward, and well... I was finishing off a clash of kings ( which I enjoyed so much ! so onto a storm of swords now ).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next chapter. All your comments were so lovely and I love reading and replying to you all on feedback you have - as little or as large as it is !
> 
> Warning: there is the mention of suicide in this chapter, but just in a brief comment. Nothing graphic or detailed at all. But gave the warning anyway.

The next time that Sansa showed up to the group therapy, it was two days later, and she had made sure to be late on purpose so she wouldn’t have another awkward confrontation with Tyrion Lannister. 

Staring through the small window glass in the door; the same one she had felt Theon staring at her through when she had taken off, knocking down her chair and everything just the other day, and she could already see that people were inside. Including Cersei Lannister. She swallowed the breath she had been holding, eyes blinking wide in fear at the woman who’s back was to the door she was still standing behind. But she knew Cersei anywhere - even the back of her. She knew that sun kissed golden hair that lapped down her back in perfect waves - showing that Cersei had spent at least 30 minutes just brushing each strand of it out until it was perfectly untangled and sitting perfect. Perfect, just like Cersei Lannister. 

She remembered multiple times the woman had sat her down and brushed out her hair as well, but it hadn’t been the same soothing way that her own mother Catelyn had once done. She had not taken those green orbs off of her through the mirror in front of where she sat the entire time, and her hand was holding her head and then her shoulder just a little too tightly. Cersei’s eyes had always reminded Sansa of emerald’s, or wildfire. The same deep colour of green - one beautiful, and the other dangerous.

_ I can’t sit in a room with that woman.  _ She spun on her heels to turn, making it to the steps down towards the parking lot once more, just in time for another person to come slinking round the corner, hood up, hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Escaping again, are we?” His voice was taunting. Playful, friendly, and  _ familiar. _ She hated how familiar his voice was, or that he was acting like they were just like before - before Ramsay came along. Theon was just Robb’s annoying best friend that spent way too much time at their house than he did at his own, and it had only gotten more frequent when his mother had went and committed suicide. He never wanted to be home after that.

“I certainly will be seeing you here.” She huffed while pulling the strap of her bag further up onto her shoulder. Her eyes met his, just for a second, before she quickly turned away and looked into her bag, attempting to fish her keys out of the madness inside. A curse under her breath, hand moving in a hurry in the bottomless pit through the old receipts and candy wrappers. She needed to leave. And quickly as possible. There had to be other group meetings that her therapist could sign her up for and force her to go to with that sickly sweet red smile of hers.

“Don’t be like that, Stark. We can sit in that circle and pretend we’re sitting around a campfire telling horror stories. Just like we used to when we were kids. A bit more depressing than horror stories, but any story that Sandor tells is sure to make a child squirm.” He added on a dramatic shiver to prove the point, which only caused a roll of the eyes from her. Always the jokester, Theon had never changed that part of himself at least. 

“It’s not like how it used to be.” 

A silence came after she made that comment. She was sure that Theon had to agree with her statement because of the way he seemed to duck underneath his hood more.  _ You had done the same the night you stole from my family, do you remember, Theon? You stole hundreds to pay for your addiction and I let you go. I saw you, and I let you go. _

“Look, you don’t even need to speak in there. I know you’ll think you need to tell your story and be all strong and show these strangers that don’t even give one shit that you’re over what happened to you, even if you aren’t, but you don’t have to. Not today, not ever if you don’t want to.” She felt like he was speaking more in advice to himself than her, reassuring himself that it was okay to sit and sulk in one of those ugly, uncomfortable plastic chairs for another hour or two. It would be over soon, the programme only went on for a couple of months. If you need more, you sign back up again. Sansa had the full disclosure from her therapist, Melisandre. She had heard it all time and time again. 

She shifted between her feet, a suck in of a breath before speaking once more. “You promise I won’t be forced to speak? I can speak when I want to?” He gave a nod in response, followed by one of those famous Greyjoy grins that he always used to give her. It didn’t react his eyes the same way it used to do - back before Alannys killed herself and Ramsay became someone he depended on, but it was still there. And it was there for her. 

“I watched the flames all around me, fucking licking at the one side of my face. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even scream out for help. The only thing I could do, was feel the fucking pain of the flames burning my bed and myself, and see that cunt standing in the corner of my bedroom, just watching me burn.” Theon said that Sandor had told the story of how he had gotten his scars a thousand times since he had been in group therapy with him, so much that Theon could probably do a one man show on how Sandor ended up with the scars and act out the parts of Sandor, the flames and the ‘cunt’ that stood watching.

It was the first time that Sansa had heard the story though - and she couldn’t help but dab at her eyes with the tissue she had found beside her car keys in her bag, stopping the tears from rolling down her cheeks and ruining the makeup she had spent time doing. 

“Thank you for sharing with us, Sandor. This is the first time you’ve mentioned um... “ Tyrion clears his throat where he sat in his chair, still with it backwards and between his legs. “The cunt that was watching you burning. I call that progress. Even just a small one.” Glancing at the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. “I’m afraid that’s today’s session over, be sure to grab yourself a warm cup of tea or coffee, whatever you fancy, and a range of different cakes and biscuits as well.” 

Theon was the first off his seat and across at the table that looked like it was going to collapse at any time - digging into the cakes and biscuits as he shoved a few into his pockets for later, and then carried a custard cream between his lips. She approached him, standing just at the side of him, and ignored the delights and went straight for a cup of tea. She had never been a coffee drinker. Only when she desperately needed the boost. 

“No lemon cake for you, Stark?” As she turned, she saw the lemon delight resting on the palm of his hand, offered out to her. It swelled her heart just a bit that he had remembered that the only cake she had ever enjoyed and hadn’t made her feel sick, had been lemon cakes. 

“Thanks..” She takes it, nibbling onto the corners and around the edges while she prepares herself a mediocre cup of tea in a paper cup that clearly had been taken from Costa, considering it was red, and had ‘Costa’ written down one side. As she sipped at her tea - no sugar and just milk, she tried to ignore the aftertaste of the tea that was clearly stuck to the bottom of the cup and hadn’t mixed in, her gaze set on Theon who stuffed his face with cakes instead. 

“Does Sandor’s story not shock you at all? I mean, I know that you said you’ve heard it a thousand times, but it doesn’t make you a little sorry for the man? I mean… how could someone do that to him?” She turned to look over her shoulder and saw Sandor, deep in conversation with the other man, Stannis. She supposed they would get on well, being  _ serious  _ men. 

“Brother’s can be evil cunts like that sometimes.” Theon just gives a simple shrug of his shoulders and looks to where she was looking, scoffing a little. “Course those two dower face pricks would get along. I wonder what they speak about… ‘Yeah I’m not a very liked person.’ ‘Me neither. I guess I’m just too angry and bitter and boring for the rest of them. Us older gents need to stick together’ _. _ ” He tried to mock their voices - failing horribly. It still made Sansa laugh though, after giving him a playful smack to the shoulder.

“Don’t be rude.. How do you know the ‘cunt’ he refers to is his brother? He never even mentioned having a brother?” She bit into the middle of the lemon cake and hummed, licking some of the lemon dizzle from her bottom lip. She was sure that Theon’s eyes had actually watched her doing so, a little bit of a sweat on his forehead from underneath that hood, but that could have been from anything. Perhaps he was just dreaming and his eyes were unfocused… 

“Because I’ve spoken to the guy before. He mentioned how he and his brother never got along and we bonded over the fact both of us had brother’s that were cunts.” His hand reached for another biscuit, the same kind once again. She hoped no one else was hoping for one of those custard creams, because Theon seemed to have staked his claim all over them. 

She remembered Robb once ranting to their father about Theon’s older brothers and how cruel they were. She shouldn’t have been listening in - she was only seven and should have been tucked away in bed where her mother had put her just an hour before. But it was storming outside and she was scared, and small Sansa had crept her way to the top of the stairs only to hear Robb going off about Rodrik and Maron Greyjoy. She even heard him say that he wished they would hurry up and die so Theon could be free from them, and then just a year later, they were dead. A car crash, from what she remembered.

It was the reason she didn’t bother to mention hearing Robb ranting about his older brother’s now. Just like his mother’s death - she didn’t know how fresh the wound still was. Though Theon had hated his brother’s, he still took it hard when they passed. But she was sure that was more to do with the fact his father started to turn his aggression onto Theon, even though Balon had been the one driving the car that night.

Sansa felt her presence before she even had to speak up. The woman had been watching her from the moment she stepped through the door just ahead of Theon an hour ago, and now she was standing behind her, sucking the cream filling from a donut right off of her thumbnail. “Sansa darling! A long time no see. I didn’t expect to see the likes of  _ you  _ at a therapy group like this.” There was something sickly about the way she had said it, almost as if she thought better of Sansa than to be having to sit through therapy meetings with other people with traumas just like hers. 

She tried to keep her composure, turning to face the slightly taller woman with a fake smile in return. If there had been a person that had taught Sansa to hide how she feels for someone - even if she wanted them to be hit by a bus going past, it was Cersei. And that was the exact feeling that Sansa had towards her.

“Yes well, not all of us can be as perfect as you, Cersei.” They shared a tensed hug, kissing each other’s cheeks without barely touching their lips to the other's skin. Sansa wanted to wipe her lips against the back of her hand the moment they pulled back, and Cersei had the face of a slapped arse in return. 

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Sansa. And nice meeting your new piece on the side as well. Though, not as handsome as my Joffrey. Tah-tah.” She blew a kiss while flicking that sun kissed golden hair across her shoulder, heels clicking against the broken tiles on the flooring as she made her way out of the building without touching a single cake, biscuit or any of the beverages at choice.  _ She’s too good for the likes of this, she’ll go home and drown herself in the most expensive wine she can find in her wine cellar. She’ll not even need to lift a finger, the butler will do it for her. _

“You alright?” Theon steps up behind her, biscuit delights now forgotten, a gentle hand against her arm, offering a squeeze of reassurance. Sansa just releases the breath she hadn’t known she was holding in, and ducks her head down with a giggle from between her lips, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. 

“I’m sorry about- I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. Cersei had called him her  _ piece on the side _ , and then further commented on Theon’s looks. Theon was certainly not unattractive, but he and Joffrey had different types of beauty. While Joffrey was prime, proper and had that perfect golden hair and bright smile that every girl wanted and fell for, Theon had more of a rugged look. Dark eyes like a storm at sea, chestnut curls that fell against his forehead and curled around his ears. Theon looked like a man, Joffrey still looked and acted like a boy.

“Don’t be. Let’s just get out of here. Forget about the likes of Cersei Lannister, she hardly ever shows up to these meetings anyway.” She finds herself following him out of the hall and outside to the fresh air, a small wave to Tyrion over her shoulder while she leaves. “There’s no point in her coming to these group therapies, she goes home and necks a bottle of wine anyway. Alcoholism, the exact reason her brother forced her to sign up for his classes. Tyrion makes her the running joke because of it. ‘If you don’t show up at these sessions and follow the rules.. You’ll end up just like my poor sister, Cersei’ as if the woman has a care in the world.” He scoffs, flicking out a packet of cigarettes and placing one between his thin lips. She scowls a little at the sight of it. 

“Just like you do then? Ignore the rules? Aren’t you here for drug addiction? And here you are, not even a minute out of the building, still standing on the steps to it, with a cigarette between your lips.” 

She sees a flicker of a flame from the lighter as he lights the tip of the cigarette, taking in a deep draw as she watches a little part of the cigarette burning away, ash falling off the end and the smoke coming from between his lips as he finishes inhaling, letting it infect his lungs. 

“You think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Well I’ll tell you this, Stark.” Another draw, leans in close to her so that the smoke blows over her face when he breathes out. “This cigarette is the only happiness I have left in my life. If I can’t inject my veins, I’m going to end my life somehow.” He offers her a little shrug, that smirk on his lips as he jumps across the three steps downward like they aren’t even there, and walks in the direction of the bus stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, comments, bookmarks etc are always very welcomed !
> 
> follow me on @hcrlaws on twitter and tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comments/bookmarks are ALWAYS welcome and appreciated !
> 
> follow me @hcrlaws on tumblr and twitter.


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